Just a wicked witch
that grew up with a wicked bitch

My muse has amnesia. What would you tell them about their relationship with your’s to try and get them to remember?




Kit watched as his new friend was pulled out of the room before another guard have cuffed him and pulled him towards his cell. With a rather unceremonious kick to the back of the knee Kit found himself on the ground of his room, his hands becoming scraped up by the uneven concrete. He turned around just as the guard slammed the door shut behind him, a scowl upturning his lips as he stood up, brushing the dirt off of his clothes. He situated himself on the rock hard cot and began to toss and turn repeatedly until he finally drifted off into a deep sleep. It was one of the first nights he actually slept through. In fact, he slept so soundly that he had woken up long after the rest of the patients were released to the rec room. Kit jumped up from his cot and began to call for one of the guards. It took some time but he finally convinced the guard to let him go to the rec room.

Kit sleepily walked the halls, his eyes a bit more bright as he made his way towards the rec room. Once he was there he surveyed the area, catching sight of his new friend. A small smile placed itself on his lips as he made his way over to her. “Wow, you look like shit” he told her, a small grin on his lips as he sat down next to her. “Did you not sleep at all?” he questioned, raising his eyebrows quickly.  

When Kit walked out it made her smile. Truth be told her knuckles hurt like hell still from where Jude had slammed the ruler down on them more than once but she was dealing. Hiding her hands behind her back she sat back in the chair and smiled at her new friend again, clearly ignoring the warning that Jude had given her to stay away from Kit or face the consequences. “Sleeping is kind of hard when some dude is jerking off looking through the smallest crack at you making crude comments all night long. On top of that I just had a ton on my mind.” She sighed before running her hand through her hair.

"You seem well rested though. That is a good thing, isn’t it?" Frances allowed a smile to grace her face again before making room so he could sit down as well on the old, beat to hell sofa. "So, I have to ask, anything fun to do around here? Like do we ever get to walk the halls at all? I would settle for just getting in the kitchen right now to fry some fresh eggs up. They bake bread—I could make pancakes with the stuff they have for the bread." She replied hopefully, knowing that she would be unable to do any of that. "Joking…" Her pale hand traced across the other as she sat back crossing her legs. Right around this time was when she would be smoking her morning cigarette. "What did you do before you were brought here?" She asked making kind conversation.


Kit leaned closer to her, nodding his head almost excitedly. “Yeah, yeah and there were these…loud noises” he told her, his dull eyes becoming wider. He couldn’t believe someone had actually shared the experience with him and it had breathed a new found hope into his beaten and bruised soul. “Thank God” he mumbled. Kit stood up as the guards started to enter the room and began to round everybody up. He watched as she explained why she was in here and he nodded his head a couple of times, chewing on his lower lip. “If there are aliens there must be ghosts” he told her. “I believe you” he added, feeling like it was a necessary statement. He frowned as two guards started there way. 

He noticed the fear in her voice, hell, it was written all over her face. He held his hand out, setting it on her shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “Hey, don’t be so scared, okay?” he told her. “They’re just taking us back to our rooms now..you probably won’t get assigned a room with anyone” he added, watching her carefully, “they like keeping us separated” he added, frowning slightly. “You just gotta keep your nose clean and try to keep quiet”

Frances was glad that somebody believed her as well. It was a rarity in those trying times. As the guard came closer to her he cuffed her again and began pushing her towards Jude who she had not officially met yet. Biting her lip she looked back at Kit for a moment, forcing a smile onto her face to show she would keep strength in herself no matter what. The guard brought her up to Jude’s office where she was introduced to her. The woman cracked her hands a few good times with a ruler like object she had impatiently been holding as if she had been waiting for her to get there the entire night. Frances was sent back to her cell with a warning to keep away from Kit less bad things to happen.

The night went by very slowly. She found herself unable to sleep and when it came time to be released again into the rec room she walked as fast as she could without drawing alarm. Of all the people, Spivey had been placed in the cell beside her. He had kept making comments to her through the night that she forced herself to ignore. After a quick check to make sure Jude was not around, The Cobain girl walked over to the spot she had been sitting with Kit the previous night hoping that he would return  at the same time that day. So far he was her only friend in there and she doubted she would become friends with anybody else anytime soon.


Kit debated on telling her why he had gotten sent into the establishment but before he had made up his mind she had already figured it out. “Okay, yeah but..” he paused when she said she didn’t believe anything the media was saying. It felt like a breath of fresh air to him. “I didn’t do it” he reiterated, a deep frown pulling his lips downward as he watched her carefully. “I really didn’t do nothin” he added with a deep sigh. “Why would’I’a killed her ‘nyway, y’know?” he questioned, chewing on his lower lip at the thought of it. “They’s just lookin’ for somebody to blame is all” he added, leaning toward her slightly. “It wasn’t no one on Earth though” he told her, looking at her in a serious matter. “It was aliens, I saw them with my own two eyes” he explained to her, swallowing hard. He leaned away from her, not sure what she would believe. 

He watched as she walked over to the record and quickly shook his head. “Don’t you touch that” he told her, arching one eyebrow. Kit turned his attention to where she had motioned and scowled slightly. “Sister Jude” he told her, his eyes leaving Jude and returning to her. “If you’re gonna go messing around with someone don’t let it be here” he advised, nodding his head in agreement with himself. 

Taking in the explanation that Kit had given as to how his wife disappeared she could hear the serious tone in his voice. A normal, insane person would have faltered at least once. When a person lies they always have a tell and he wasn’t showing one. Moving in closer to him as she backed away from the player Jude averted her attention for a moment’s time. “Color me crazy but I believe you. When I was younger—like a kid—I remember waking up one night seeing these things. It looked like hands reaching from a bright light. I thought I was having a nightmare but it wouldn’t go away no matter how hard I tried clearing my mind…I believe you.” Those were three very strong words coming from the Cobain girl but she meant every one of them.

"The world is wrong about a lot of things—-they just won’t open their eyes to the truth. My dad…he died. Tragically, actually. I see his ghost at the old home he lived in and that was what landed me here. I wasn’t hallucinating and it wasn’t PTSD or whatever those doctors like calling it. It was real." She sighed before the guards began moving everyone back to their rooms. "Where are they taking me now?" Frances asked rather scared.


As soon as she mentioned that his name sounded familiar he grimaced, his hand going to the back of his neck for a moment. “Uh..yeah, oh” he said, nodding his head. “I’m sure there are a lot of people named Kit, r’ght?” but he wasn’t too sure. What he was sure of was the fact that his name had been all over the media, slandering him as the infamous Bloody face. Not a good way to start an introduction, Kit he scolded himself. “Sure is a long way away from home” he told her, nodding his head slowly. 

He wasn’t going to ask why she was in here if she didn’t bring it up but he was glad she did. He listened to her, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I believe you” he said finally, sitting down in a chair. It creaked as he sat and Kit frowned down at it. “I didn’t do nothin’ either” he told her, raising his eyebrows slightly. 

"What are you in here for anyways? If you don’t mind me asking that is." She said chewing on her lip. "These people—most of them you can tell something is truly wrong. The others however…" She sighed shaking her head. "I am sure more innocent people are in here but honestly I care about my own back and the ones of my friends, you know?" Frances questioned Kit to see where he stood on the matter. Taking a seat near him, nly on the floor, Frances remembered where the name sounded familiar from. "They think you killed your wife, don’t they? I know that is bullshit. If the tabloid story I read actually told the truth then I believe you. There are things out of this world that we can’t explain." Now she was rambling on and was sure he was getting tired of her prying.

Standing up, Frances walked over to the Singing Nuns record that was playing and contemplated stopping it. The sound had grown very tiresome in the short time she had been there but there was now a new face standing in the room watching her every move. A guard was standing by the door so nobody could get around them and the feeling f just how truly trapped they all were began sinking in. “Wh’s that chick?” Frances asked motioning at Sister Jude.

Damian Volkov
* Indie OC RP Blog.
* Super awesome character and mun.
* Volkodlak - based on European Mythology.
* NOT Peter Rumancek.


Kit watched as yet another new patient was dragged into the rec room, his brown eyes surveying the girl as the guards finally let her go. He pressed his lips together, his head tilting to the side. She seemed normal enough but, some were like that. They looked like normal people until they opened their mouths and then you immediately knew why they had been sent to Briarcliff. However, he figured he could give it a shot and try to talk to her. You needed friends in a place like this he had soon discovered. 

It was only his third week of being in the asylum and he had learned the rules the hard way, his eye was still black and blue and he had a cut on his forehead, running from his hairline down to his eyebrow. He got up from the sagging couch and made his way over to her. “Hi” he called out once he was only a couple feet from her. “Name’s Kit” he told her with a smile. “You’re new here” he noted. 

Hearing somebody other than the guards address her was a welcome response to her entering the room. Gazing towards Kit she listened to him say what his name was. It rang a bell for some reason but she couldn’t quite place it at the moment. Whatever the reason, she chose to reply back to him. “Yeah, just checked into this hell hole motel. My name’s Frances. Kit—-I have heard that name before. Can’t place it, though. I was shipped here from the West coast.” She sighed running a hand through her long black hair, looking towards the other inmate again.

"And before you begin making accusations—if you are like the others in here—I am not crazy. I didn’t hurt anybody. And finally I am not some psycho. My mom should be in here if anybody but because I am living in her home I am under her rules and she had to cover herself somehow." She explained wanting to get it over with.

The last place that the Cobain girl had ever expected to land herself was in an insane asylum. However the public had ruled her as delusional after she ranted how her father was a ghost and still resided in the old home. Her mother, being the ever so caring person she was, decided to send her off someplace she knew that she couldn’t escape—Briarcliff Manor near Boston on the opposite side of the country.

Sighing  the girl remained calm as the guards tugged her along in hand cuffs towards the recreational room. It stunk of piss and stale air in the windowless hell hole that the patients considered their freedom of the day. Taking a seat on a rusted old spring chair Frances gazed around. An annoying French song rang through the halls and it made her want to smash the player. Luckily she knew better. To get out she wold have to play along with their little games. What she didn’t know was that nobody ever gets out of Briarcliff. Not alive, at least.

can’t decide if i want to rp a hemlock original character, shelley, or miranda. hmm.

{Lithium - whitelaceandxstrange - Closed RP}


Tate’s mind ran wild with the images of them together traveling and loving each other. “Run away with me.” His eyes, almost electric in intensity, stared deeply into her eyes. They could just leave this world behind and leave. He ran his hands through his hair moving the curly locks from his eyes. 

"We could go tonight." His breath hitched when her lips touched his neck. He brought his hands to her waist and moved their bodies together even more. "If anything were to happen to me if I killed those bastards, I wouldn’t be able to live knowing that you’re without me. I need you, Frances." He kissed her roughly, his emotions causing a surge of adrenaline to rush through him. "Let’s run away."

"Where could we go Tate? I mean there is my father’s old house out in Washington but that would be an easy place to find plus Kurt fans flock there every single day now since what happened." She admitted, holding him close. "I could care less where we are, though. I just want to be with you. Let’s do it. Let’s run away someplace far, far away." The excitement was evident in her eyes as she stared into his dark hues.

"Why don’t we stay the night here and act like we are leaving for school tomorrow. Then we could run away." Frances suggested, kissing his lips deeply once again. With it being a school night it ran the possibility of getting caught. That was the only thing that sucked about being the child of two famous people. Getting recognized everywhere that she went made running away a difficult action but they would manage to get through it somehow.

"Don’t you ever let me go…"



☠—-   Grumbly zombie noises.

—Stay calm, Frances. Maybe it won’t hear your heart pounding away in your chest.

i want to do Volturi storylines. I don’t care what you say. They were bad ass. Sadly no twilight roleplayers really talk to me